No Time
by Yaoimelody
Summary: [First-person practicing, I guess. Reviews/Feedback/Requests are begged for and much appreciated.] Lou goes about his average day, but gets caught up in troubles he'd been having for some time.


Getting woken up ungracefully, I scoffed at the alarm. Clearly I was getting tricked here... It was time for my morning routine to get started, but my mind was dragging me back like gravity would. Slapping my hand angrily onto the clock, it shut up. Then I gave in and slunk back under the overly warming covers. I mean, when has five more minutes ever hurt anyone?

*I*I*I*I*

Me and my bright ideas. I had to scramble everything I usually did, so I looked less than tidy. I nearly got shampoo in my eyes, and had to use my cramped shower. It was so much less graceful while I put on my nice clothes. Sure, I deserved it for not resetting my alarm in my stubborn sleep-ridden state, but I was so not a morning person.

I zipped into the kitchen, and had to get something fast-paced. But what? I couldn't take any bland cereal on the go, nor had the time to make coffee that I had recently taken a liking to. Goodbye daily white chocolate drink, hello crushed-looking water bottle. I sighed and plopped my shoulder bag on the table, clicking it open and throwing the cover to the back. Placing in my change of outfit, a protected disc of songs I'd like to suggest to my quartet, then my plastic container of warm water, I was set.

Nearly at the door, my house phone rang. After calming down from that, it had scared me half to death, I decided I may as well get to checking it. Great, I was late and just making it worse. Some part of me hoped it was my quartet, moving the time around or something. Why did I have to think that? I answer in a voice that practically hummed, finding it to indeed be a fellow member of my singing group.

"Lou," it ended up being Jack. He sounded upbeat, as per usual, "glad I could catch you in time."

I tried to think of many times I'd actually talked to the younger man. It really hadn't been a big priority. It was one of those sort of friends from school. You talk when you see each other, but never really hang out together outside of class. One day I would strive to change that, but right now I didn't notice this fact, "I guess I should be, too. What is it?"

There was a pause and the other man seemed to be wondering how to word something. I could nearly feel myself having a breakdown from not knowing what the matter was. At last, "Well, we've been talking..."

By "we", of course he meant the rest of the group. Why did they leave me out of things sometimes? We were meant to work with one another, not secretive nonsense.

"And?" I prompted, sitting down without really caring about leaving so quickly anymore.

Jack usually seemed scared to talk to me, and I wouldn't blame him. I had an admittedly sharp tongue and attitude. It probably sliced right through his good demeanor, leaving him without a safety blanket. "Is your heart really in this, anymore?"

Nearly dropping the phone, I tried my best to stay calm. The device was slipping from my hand, and if you me you'd be reacting this way. I never did anything I liked half-heartedly. It had to be all the way, or I didn't bother attempting it. Gulping silently, I tentatively answered, "Why would you even ask such a thing?"

With the soft tone he usually took on, "Lately you haven't sang like you used to... Maybe one of us could take over as leader so it's not as noticeable? I don't know, Lou, we really want you to stay though."

Did they? Oh, I guess I couldn't tell emotions as well anymore, either. I was about to hang up, but then the younger began to promise he would call back eventually if I ended up not showing. I was going to yell. I could feel it bubbling. I could spit out out curses, then break his spirit with sneers. A warning out to telemarketers or prank callers alike, honestly.

Usually getting such a way was not on my agenda, so if they weren't persistent, then I would merely hang up. But this was also my group member. I had to be so careful in what I did or said, because there would be consequences. Instead of answering, my mentality caused me to hang up.

I got up from perch on the chair, slamming the phone back down. I didn't bother taking the stuff from my bag, but I was tempted to just toss it out an open window. That would be useless though, since nothing in it could break or be broken. I just left it alone, leaving for the bathroom. Feeling tears prickle the corners of my eyes, I closed the door behind me. No one else even lived here, so I was probably just jumping the gun by doing so.

Moving to the sink at the opposite side of the room, I rested my hands on the marble counter. Giving off breaths meant to calm me, I realized something. I was sad. Pathetic even. There were so many worse things that could happen to me.

Maybe that was why this was happening. My singing hadn't changed, had it? The reason I could get out of bed in the morning was for singing. Without the musical arts, I was nothing. Just another face within the seas of crowds.

I wouldn't show up today, but maybe tomorrow. I needed some alone time, especially in this mood.

Looking up at my reflection, I inspect what I see after not having enough time this morning originally. There were my fierce blue eyes staring right back. They always looked so crude and judging, moving this way and that across the mirror to spot other flaws physically.

My cheeks were too sharp, but that was because of my inability to eat much. I could eat forever and not gain a pound as my years ran on, but I didn't want to repeat my chubby childhood. If the comments about me never getting to be in performing arts due to my extra weight didn't sting, I wasn't sure what else did.

I wish I got to chose how I appeared. That would make my life so much easier. I would attract a relationship, even. Then I wouldn't be this lonely and pathetic loser. Not to mention, I wouldn't have to break down crying about being possibly bumped down from my current status in my quartet.

Was that real? I was crying about something that shouldn't matter. But it did to me. I was a messy crier, but right now I didn't have the strength to make outward sobs.

I opened one of the mirrors to reveal a medical cabinet. Rummaging, I found an electric razor. Then getting some shaving cream, I smeared some on my cheeks and chin. Carefully, I scraped along my delicate skin, making sure the random hairs all got their own little haircut. Once that part was done, I wet a nearby washcloth and rubbed the access from my skin.

I about put the objects away, but then peered right back to the mirror. My mustache was in question. It wouldn't hurt to trim it... Or maybe get rid of it. I was tired of the same old thing, really. The razor started buzzing again, and I watched my hand growing nearer and silently freaked out. I did want actual change, so I winced...

The closer it came, the more I shifted my head away from it. These reactions were those of a child, and I would have a better appearance... I stood still, eventually getting over my crying from the sudden peace. I chickened out of getting rid of it, but resorted to giving the hairs a nice trim. It looked the same, though. Nothing would ever change.

Giving in to my sudden need to lean my face against the cool glass, I watched the scale in the corner. It would lie again, would it? Say I was under what I should be at weight-wise. That was a lie, of course. I had to be overweight from those snacks I sometimes had when I skipped meals. Doctors didn't get it. How was I supposed to eat more if I was already so, so fat...

Stopping myself from moping anymore, I straightened up in the mirror. My reflection looked rather sharp otherwise. Lately my clothes looked like they were hanging off of me, but that had to be my imagination. Stalking back out into my kitchen, I grabbed a new novel from the table that I currently took to liking. Propping it open with one hand, I sat at the counter on a stool.

*I*I*I*I*

Eventually the book's words ran together, and I held my head as it lightly throbbed. Putting down the book in defeat, and scooted so I sat looking out towards my fridge. I shook my head to myself, knowing I would gain weight just thinking of the treasures within the giant box container. Then my legs gave in to the silent call, and my hands nearly ripped open the stainless steel double doors. I did eat, so maybe just a bite of my leftover dinner from last night...

The phone rang yet again, so I snapped the doors shut. Making my way back over, I eagerly took the call. Answering it gently, I then realized who it was from the sigh over the phone. Cole didn't sound all that well, "Is something wrong, son?"

At last giving a vocal answer, "No, it's fine, but I'm getting annoyed with everyone. We only have this phone at the apartment, so we have to take turns." Then I bet he placed a hand over most of the receiver, yelling at someone that their turn would be soon.

"Right..." I wasn't all too used to getting a phone call from Cole, but like I would complain. I knew I could be harsh and not good at understanding what I didn't know about, but he should be able to call me and chat about something more often. I had to keep this going for the sake of my current sanity, and the fact my stomach was making noises that sounded like a dying animal, "So how are you, Cole?"

The ground ninja took some time with his answer, being careful, "Good."

That was it? Now it was my time to sigh, "I'm about the same." But it was really eating at me, "Why do you call me, but never want to talk?" I slowly rested forward and leaned on the table, the phone getting a death grip, "That doesn't make any sense. I'm your father, Cole, you should be able to-"

With a disrespectful and bored tone like usual, "Not again, Dad, seriously, I just gave you an answer. Don't get all defensive about it."

Teenagers irked me, and I should have known Cole wouldn't be any different. Instead of disciplining him, I stayed his friend. He could have it his way, I just didn't want to lose more than I already had so far, even today, "You're right, my mistake."

"Look, I have to go, but I'll try to call you later, okay?" Before I could get out a true answer, the phone gave its dial tone. I was so done. He knew he had to say that so I felt any peace. It was like I had been stripped down to a helpless state.

I went back to my story, ignoring my stomach and hunger cramps. Suddenly I was entranced in this novel more than before. It sounded heartless, but I didn't care whether I got called back by either of them.

Treat others how you want to be treated? I wouldn't give them the satisfaction. Grabbing out my music player, I blasted a song and stuck in headphones, leaving to go back to my bedroom and read. I didn't realize that I had gotten important calls. Cole and my quartet had been so worried about me not picking up they had called my doctors eventually, and the medical staff ended up admitting about my health and mental problems. Now they treaded lightly around me, and called and came by all too often.

That's what you get for attempting to keep to yourself like everyone wanted in the first place...


End file.
